


Promise Me

by butterflydreaming (chrysalisdreams)



Series: Fusenkago: Rearranging the Flowers [5]
Category: Cardcaptor Sakura
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-18
Updated: 2013-05-18
Packaged: 2017-12-12 06:29:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/808368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chrysalisdreams/pseuds/butterflydreaming
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Touya returns to Japan for his sister's wedding. Tomoyo understands his need to escape from the festivities. TouyaxTomoyo, TouyaXYukito (ended), TomoyoxSakura (unrequited).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Promise Me

Promise Me

. . .

Of course he would be back for his own sister's wedding, but Tomoyo was still surprized to see him. Officially, Touya still lived in Japan, but according to Sakura, he spent more time outside of the country than in it. He looked different, leaning against the garden wall at a distance from the core of the party. He looked amazing in his dark blue suit, his darkly tanned skin contrasting sharply with the crisp white shirt. The beer bottle in his hand was empty. She brought him a full one; it was cold and wet with condensation in her warm hand.

"You've been gone a long time… Touya-san," said Tomoyo in a friendly manner. She handed him the beer. He set down the empty bottle and raised the new one in salute to her. Something like a smile pulled up one corner of his mouth, but it didn't reach his eyes; his eyes were dull and almost sleepy, the way she remembered that they had looked when he left Tomoeda nine years ago. He looked tired, or more accurately… drained.

Those eyes, like deep blue abysses, drifted over her face, and a slight frown creased his forehead. A sudden, short laugh escaped him. "I almost didn't recognize you," he said. "How are you, Daidouji-san?"

"Fine," she lied. "My company is doing well. We're handling all the photography for Sakura's wedding - it's my wedding gift to her and Syaoran. I had to turn down two other clients, but I didn't mind." She studied Touya; he had only grimaced slightly at the groom's name. "You didn't come for the family sitting," she noted.

"I just got in this morning," he said. His gaze went distant, looking beyond Tomoyo's shoulder to the table where his sister, father, and stepmother sat laughing with Syaoran, Sonomi and Yukito. His eyes flickered back to her. "And I'm leaving tonight," he said decisively.

"You're kidding me," Tomoyo questioned. "You mean you just came for the ceremony?"

Touya took a long drink of his beer. "It's the only thing that would bring me back," he said. "Nothing else here that I want to remember." His look went distant again. "Why aren't you with the rest of them?" he asked.

Tomoyo looked briefly over her shoulder and then turned back. "No reason," she said coolly. "You were all by yourself. I thought I'd break your solitude."

"You want to get out of here?" Touya asked, tossing his now-empty bottle to clink against its brother.

"Yes," said Tomoyo.

The thin heels of her designer shoes sank awkwardly into the moist lawn as she and Touya wandered away from the reception, avoiding the paved paths that would lead them through groups of merry-making wedding guests. When Touya's long legs started to carry him too far ahead of her, she kicked her shoes off and carried them by the sandal straps. Dampness sunk through her hose to wet her feet as she dashed to catch up to him.

"Do you have any idea where you are going?" she asked, slightly breathless.

Touya made a vague gesture back towards the party. "Somewhere not around him," he said in a low voice. "But since this is your house, I guess I should let you lead."

"I don't live here anymore," Tomoyo said. "I have a condominium in the city. But nothing has changed, really." She pointed toward a path that they were approaching. "We can get into the house from the kitchen," she said. "From there I can get us to the garage, where my car is parked."

"Lead on," said Touya.

When they came to the servant's door, Tomoyo slipped her shoes back on and walked through it with authority. The kitchen staff hardly paid them any attention; the servants had too much to do to notice a few stray guests. Nevertheless, Touya hesitated, and Tomoyo had to grab his hand and drag him forward. They strode into a nearly empty hallway, but their hands stayed locked together. Neither one of them commented on it.

"You'd need a map to live in this place," said Touya as Tomoyo guided him down yet another corridor, one that looked, to him, almost exactly like the last one. "A person could get lost for weeks."

"Then you're lucky you have a native guide," joked Tomoyo quietly. "But be quiet now. This is where we could run into somebody." She stopped, and he stood closely behind her while she peeked around a corner. He was warm against her. The buttons of his suit coat tickled against the part of her back that her dress left bare. She could smell his cologne: something by Calvin Klein. She had their combined hands against her middle, and it was almost as if he had her arm around her waist in a loose embrace.

After assuring that the way was clear, they continued down yet another corridor, passing a short flight of stairs leading downward that branched off. This hallway, more deeply in the main part of the house, opened into several doorways ahead. A small crowd of familiar faces spilled from one of those doorways suddenly, and Touya and Tomoyo hurriedly backtracked to the stairwell. Several minutes passed while the group stood in the hallway talking loudly; they all sounded more than a little drunk, especially Meilin. Naoko scolded her girlfriend for being too loud while Tomoyo and Touya exchanged a silent, disbelieving look. Tomoyo gestured toward the stairs and began to creep down them silently with Touya following. She led him through a narrow door and closed it softly behind both of them.

"They don't seem to be leaving," she said in a voice just above a whisper.

Touya looked curiously around the room they were in. The ceiling was low and the lighting, which had come on automatically when Tomoyo had stepped through the door, was mild. The air was coldly humid, slightly dusty, and pungent. Wine bottles lined the walls in rack after rack, hiding the room's true size.

He wandered around the perimeter, occasionally picking up one of the dustier bottles to examine the date. "Isn't someone going to come looking for more refreshments?" he asked.

"They're all drinking champagne. The few required bottles of chardonny or merlot are already upstairs," Tomoyo answered with assurance.

Touya paused with a bottle in hand. It was different from the other bottles, sheathed in a golden metal and thick with dust. Slowly, he turned the label toward Tomoyo so that she could see it. "This is from the year that Sakura was born," he said flatly.

"Twenty-two year old lagrima christi," Tomoyo said. "It's a Spanish wine. Mother was given a case of it when I was born." She walked up and stood close to Touya, and wiped the dust from the label with one delicate finger. "Lagrima means 'tears' in Spanish, she told me."

"Here, hold this a second," said Touya, pushing the bottle into her hands. He fished around in a pocket and pulled out a pocket knife enameled with the Swiss white cross. He flipped open the corkscrew tool and took the bottle back from her. She watched with admiring shock as he brazenly peeled away the foil to reveal the cork. He deftly twisted the corkscrew in and opened the bottle with a quiet pop. A fragrant mist filled the air as the long-aged wine was freed. Touya looked at what he had done, and smiled a long smile at Tomoyo. An airy laugh bubbled up from Tomoyo in answer.

"We don't have any glasses," she giggled.

Touya shrugged. He put the mouth of the bottle to his lips and tipped it back, and, coughing slightly, passed it to his companion. She took a tentative sip. "It's sweet," Touya said, and Tomoyo nodded, feeling the mellow flavor fill her mouth.

"My tears are never sweet," she murmured. She sipped again, letting more of the wine fill her.

Touya pulled off his coat, and Tomoyo looked away, surprized at her flush of embarrassment. She realized his closeness and the privacy of the room, a situation that she could not recall ever having been in. Touya draped the coat across the floor. "Go ahead," he said, motioning for her to sit. Tentatively, she dropped down to the floor, still holding the golden bottle. He settled down next to her, and she passed the wine back to him to drink.

They passed the bottle back and forth a few more times before Tomoyo waived it away. "I don't want to get drunk," she said. "Anyway, it's too sweet."

Touya placed the bottle on the floor and pushed the cork back into it. "I think it's a dessert wine," he agreed. He looked at her for a long minute. "So what are you sneaking away from?" he asked.

Tomoyo toyed with a bracelet. "I've been to a lot of weddings in the last few years," she said. "I've been the Maid of Honor or a bridesmaid at every one of them. Maybe I just want to wear a dress that doesn't match a line of other girls for once," she sighed.

"That's right - you were a bridesmaid for Maki-san, weren't you," Touya confirmed, remembering. "You, Sakura, and some other girl."

"You didn't come to that one," said Tomoyo mildly.

"She's my dad's new wife, not my new mother," Touya said in a voice almost devoid of emotion. "So what about you? When's your turn?"

Tomoyo chose not to understand the question. "My turn what?" she replied.

"Your turn to get married," he said plainly.

"Maybe I never will," Tomoyo said loftily. "There's a saying: always the bridesmaid and never the bride."

"Why not?" Touya asked.

"Why not you?" Tomoyo queried in retaliation. "Or did you leave a wife back in New Zealand or where ever you're living now?"

Touya raised his hands and wiggled his fingers. "No ring," he said simply. "No, I'm not married. And don't ask me why, because I don't have a nice answer."

"But you can ask me?" Tomoyo asked, her voice rising slightly with her anger. "A man can be a bachelor but I'm an old maid?"

Touya looked stunned, and exhaled a short laugh. "Hey, I'm not trying to make you mad."

"You're doing a good job anyway," Tomoyo grumbled.

Both sat in silence for a while. Then Touya stuck out his hand out to her, offering a handshake. "Truce?' he asked.

Tomoyo took his hand reluctantly, and she shook it in a businesslike manner. His hand made hers seem that much smaller; her hand got lost in his hand. His hand was warm and dry like a rock that had been sitting out in the sun, slightly rough with callous like a shed snakeskin. She was more reluctant to let it go than she had been to take it, but he didn't say anything when she continued holding on. For a while, he didn't say anything at all, and neither did she. She stared at his shoes instead of looking at his face. His shoes had flecks of green stuck to them, broken blades of wet grass. Her shoes had grass and wet dirt that had penetrated her sheer stockings. Tomoyo wondered if they had left tracks.

"Quid Pro Quo," she said, feeling silly to be quoting a movie. "If you tell me something, I'll tell you something."

More wine-scented time passed before Touya answered. "We played that game," he said in a low, bitter voice. "One True Thing."

"We did?" Tomoyo asked in confusion.

Touya shook his head once and sharply. "Me and him," he said. "Me and Yuki." He took back his hand, bent one knee up, and leaned his elbow on it. "You don't want to hear this."

"Maybe I do," Tomoyo replied. "I do," she said again, with more assurance. "Nobody ever talks about why you left., what happened. Sakura-chan kept saying that it was just for the summer, but then the summer was over and you were still gone, and she wouldn't say anything about it."

"I call her whenever I can," said Touya. "It was hard to leave, but it was worse to stay." He rolled his head backward to rest it against a shelf. Looking up at the low ceiling, he continued, "He didn't need me anymore, once he was strong again. I felt like shit all the time - tired, and like I was walking in a cloud - and I had to look at him and know that he was stronger than me because he had taken part of me." Sighing, Touya briefly closed his eyes. "And I'd made the decision. But really, there hadn't been any decision to make, just a situation to accept. Because I couldn't let him disappear. He was my best friend."

"You do things to help the ones you love, even if it takes away from yourself," Tomoyo said with empathy. "It's not a choice, it's a compulsion. Because you love them."

"Yeah, well. I came back for the wedding. You know, I've been avoiding him. But I think he's been avoiding me, too. I haven't had to talk to him once."

Tomoyo offered a wan smile. "Did you want to talk to him?"

"No," said Touya definitively. "Okay, your turn. Tell me who you're avoiding."

Tomoyo shook her head without saying anything. "I'll take the Dare," she said.

"Come on, you've had to listen to me. It's your turn to cry on my shoulder," said Touya lightly.

Tomoyo stared at Touya searchingly. "Can I, really?" she asked. "Cry on your shoulder?"

Touya's expression softened, but the crease of frown re-appeared on his forehead. "Sure," he said, offering the arm on her side like a sheltering wing. Tomoyo scooted into the comfortable space and gingerly placed a cheek against the smooth cotton of his shirt. She sneaked one arm into the gap behind him, and rested the other against his chest, next to her face. The sheltering wing folded down over her.

She didn't cry, although she wanted to. There was no way that she could unburden her secret to Touya, because Touya was still Sakura's brother. Watching Sakura pledge her lifelong love to Syaoran had been painful in a way that she had not expected. Her love for the girl had become easy and everyday for her over the years, a fact as simple as the stars coming out at night even when no-one was awake to see them. But today, it had been made official: someone else would always mean more to Sakura than Tomoyo did. Second place would be the best she could ever have, and eventually, when Sakura and Syaoran began having children, she would have to yield that position, too.

She felt Touya's head dip down to touch her hair, and heard the deep inhalation that he took. He was smelling her hair, and her awareness of it gave her an unexpected thrill. To be truthful, she had always noticed Touya's good looks, and it had never surprized her that all the girls had crushes on him. But he was Sakura's big brother… off limits, right? Even if he was taking slow, deep breaths that moved his chest soothingly beneath her cheek.

Tomoyo tipped her head upwards to look at him. He had been watching her, and brought his head lower, and kissed her on the mouth. When his lips touched hers, she pushed herself more upright to make a fuller contact. On her knees, she put her arms around his neck and leaned against him. She pushed his lips open with the tip of her tongue, finding his willing yielding as their kiss became deeper.

His hands on her waist felt good, even if a coat button, digging into the bones of her foot, was distracting her with discomfort. The floor was hard through the coat fabric, and the air in the room was too cold and damp for her sleeveless satin bridesmaid's dress. Tomoyo held onto the kiss a little longer, until the discomforts of the room began to lessen her enjoyment. She pulled away with a toss of her head.

"This is probably the worse room in the house to be doing this," she said.

"I wasn't noticing the room," said Touya, the smile on his damp lips brightening and warming his blue eyes.

Tomoyo giggled a quiet laugh. "If you're ready to chance the hallway, I can find us a better room."

Before she could stand up, Touya put a hand on the back of her neck and kissed her again, shorter this time. "Lead on," he said, afterward.

Tomoyo walked quickly to the door. She opened it with slow care, and eased her sight around the jamb to scan their egress. Since the hallway seemed quiet and uninhabited again, she slipped out the door and motioned for Touya to follow. She was stealthy, climbing the short flight of stairs, and paused to check the hall again before proceeding. She noted with relief that there were no tracks from their shoes on the pale hallway carpet.

They managed to slip, unseen, up the stairs to the bedroom level, although they could hear someone coming up the elevator as they passed its doors. Led unerringly by Tomoyo, the pair hurried along until she opened a door and waved Touya inside ahead of her. "This is my old room," she said. "I know no-one will be coming in here." She checked the windows behind the closed curtains, and found them closed as well. "But there isn't a lock on the door, so help me move that," she said, indicating an oversized stuffed chair.

Touya unbuttoned his cuffs and rolled up his sleeves. He also took off his tie, dismissively letting it fall on the floor, and opened his collar. "How about something bigger?" he asked with enthusiasm bordering on hilarity. He pointed to a chest high dresser. "If you steer, I can move that."

"It's oak, Touya," the girl said disbelievingly.

With a smile, Touya unbuttoned his shirt the rest of the way and stripped it off. "Let me show off for you," he said, limbering up. His clean white undershirt molded over well-toned muscles. "Tomoyo," he added, slyly. Touya took the drawers out of the dresser first, and stacked them out of the way. Then, using the emptied spaces as handholds, he lifted the heavy piece of furniture with effort. It took a few minutes to guide it in front of the door, especially because Tomoyo was overwhelmingly distracted by Touya's straining muscles. He smirked at her while he replaced the drawers back into their tracks.

"Impressed?" he asked, his manner cocky.

"More than a little," Tomoyo admitted with a smile of her own.

She was suddenly nervous again, and conflicted. Touya was a grown, experienced man, and she still felt like a girl. Her experience was little more than a single kiss of one-sided feeling, before the kiss she had shared just moments ago with Touya. A small part of her was holding back, even as the rest of her walked casually over to her old four-poster bed. She hopped up onto it, kicking off her shoes. Touya, leaning against the relocated dresser, watched her for a few minutes before crossing the room toward her.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Something for myself, for once," Tomoyo answered with conviction.

Seeming satisfied with her answer, Touya kicked off his shoes and socks and flopped down across her bed. Tomoyo wiggled out of her ruined pantyhose. Not only were the feet dirty, but a run had started, probably from a snag on a button. Without the clinging layer, her legs felt bare in a risqué way. While pulling the binding pins from her hair, she twisted over Touya and leaned against his chest.

He let her explore him, first with her lips on his lips, then with her hands over his clothes. She entwined her legs with his while they kissed deeply; he ran his touch through her now-loose hair as if she was made of crepe paper. She wanted to tell him that she wasn't as delicate as she seemed.

She liked kissing him. She like the wetness of his mouth that was not too wet, and the way his lips shaped around hers as if he was enjoying her, too. She moved her kisses to his neck and by his ears, and he rolled their bodies over so that he was above her, his kisses no longer passive. She like his weight, and the way his body felt against hers.

He made everything easy. Tomoyo wasn't afraid, and the resistant knot inside her melted away. This was what she wanted, and she told him over and over. He shushed her and sometimes laughed, not at her but in a way that made her warm. Her satin dress was badly wrinkled but still on, as were his own clothes, when they finally disentangled to let their raw lips rest.

"You're holding back," Tomoyo complained, catching her breath. She had been able to feel that his desire matched hers, but he kept pushing her hands back above his waistline. He hadn't been as censoring with his own wandering hands, and Tomoyo wanted more.

Touya looked at her with sincerity. "Yes, I am," he admitted. "We didn't plan for this."

"Oh," said Tomoyo with understanding. "Does it matter?"

Touya pulled her close again and wrapped her chin with his hand. "It matters," he answered. "You should know that."

Tomoyo sighed when she pressed her forehead to his shoulder, burying her face against his chest. His smell was intoxicating, more than the few sips of the wine that she had tasted. "But I want you," she said. "And when you leave tonight, I may never see you again."

Touya's hands rubbed intensely against her back. "I never came back because I never had any reason," he said. "I think I have a reason now."

"Really?" Tomoyo asked, looking up into his face. She kissed him before he could answer, unable to stop herself.

His lips lingered ticklishly over hers. "I think so," he said.

"Promise me?" she asked, looking at him intently.

Touya took a deep breath, and gave the question careful thought. "It's a promise," he said. And then, after another pause, he added, "And I think I'll cancel my flight tonight."

. . .

**Author's Note:**

> It amused me to write this while I was stuck on "Clow Stories", and I think it  
> came out a little better than I thought it would.  Nods (or  
> apologies) to  
> [](http://mellowcandle.livejournal.com/profile)[ **mellowcandle**](http://mellowcandle.livejournal.com/) [](http://www.livejournal.com/userinfo.bml?user=cyna_hime)[****](http://www.livejournal.com/userinfo.bml?user=cyna_hime)and[](http://peacewish.livejournal.com/profile)[ **peacewish**](http://peacewish.livejournal.com/) for the various pairings mentioned.  Good or bad, L-chan,  this one's for you.


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